She stared at me for a long moment, and I could see the internal struggle happening behind her eyes—pride versus practicality, independence versus need.
“It’s only for tonight,” I said. “One shift. I’m not trying to take over.”
That seemed to ease something in her. “I’d really appreciate the help,” she finally admitted, her shoulders sagging with relief. “Saturday nights are always slammed.”
“I know.” I remembered those nights well—the crush of people three-deep at the bar, the constant flow of drinks, the noise that made it nearly impossible to hear orders. Doc had always thrived in that chaos, moving with surprising speed and efficiency for a man of his years. Gillian had the same gift.
I couldn’t quite stop myself from reaching out to brush a strand of hair back from her face, my thumb gently wiping away the last trace of tears on her cheek. Her skin was warm and soft under my touch, and for a moment, we were frozen in that point of contact, neither of us pulling away.
“I’ll see you tonight.” My voice came out rougher than I’d intended.
Our eyes locked, and I saw something flicker in hers—recognition, remembrance, possibly even longing. But it was gone so quickly I might have imagined it.
She nodded, swallowing hard. “Thank you, Diego.”
I stepped back, breaking the spell before I could do something stupid like kiss her. “Get some rest, Gillian. I’ve got this.”
As I turned to leave, I felt the weight of her gaze on my back. I paused at the door, looking back over my shoulder. She stood there in the early morning light, surrounded by stacked chairs and empty tables, looking both lost and found at the same time.
“Diego?” she called.
“Yeah?”
“Why are you doing this?”
I could have given her any number of answers. Because I care about Doc. Because it’s the right thing to do. Because we’re friends. All of them would have been true, but none of them would have been the whole truth.
Instead, I smiled. “I’ll see you at six.”
As I walked out into the brightening day, I knew I was in trouble. Four years of careful distance, of pretending I was over her, and all it took was one moment of vulnerability to bring it all rushing back. Tonight was going to be torture—working side by side, falling into old rhythms, pretending my heart didn’t still belong to her.
But if it gave her a chance to breathe, to rest, it would be worth it. She was worth it. She always had been.
CHAPTER 11
GILLIAN
I squeezed past Diego to grab the whiskey bottle, our shoulders brushing in the tight space behind the bar. The Saturday night crowd roared around us, three deep at the counter and filling every table. Someone had put Waylon Jennings on the jukebox, and half the patrons were singing along. In the corner, the band was setting up for the first of their sets.
“Two whiskey sours and a gin and tonic,” I called over my shoulder.
“Got it.” Diego reached for the gin without looking, his movements perfectly synchronized with mine.
We’d fallen into a rhythm so natural it was almost unsettling. Two hours into his shift, and we moved like we’d been working together for years rather than one night. I’d forgotten how good we were at this—at everything, really.
“Mrs. Woodley texted,” I said as we passed each other again, this time with me ducking under his arm as he reached for a glass. “She’s got Doc settled with dinner and a movie. Says she’ll make sure he doesn’t sneak out.”
Diego grinned, the smile transforming his face in a way that still made my stomach flip. “Your grandfather’s met his match with that one.”
“You think?” I glanced over at him while mixing a margarita. “I was just thinking the same thing. There might be something there.”
“Oh, there’s definitely something.” Diego slid three beers across the counter to a waiting customer. “She brings him lunch at least once a week. Has for months now.”
“Really?” I paused mid-pour. “He never mentioned that.”
“Would he?” Diego raised an eyebrow. “Doc’s been flying solo since your grandmother passed. Maybe he’s not sure how to tell you he’s interested in someone new.”
I considered that while filling a row of shot glasses. “I’d love it if he found someone, you know? Fifteen years is a long time to be alone.”
